


Camp Derry - IT Sleep-Away Camp AU

by mttegg



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 02:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16317356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mttegg/pseuds/mttegg
Summary: Seven losers are sent to one camp during summer break. The atmosphere is fun, the activities are engaging, and the people are kind. Despite this, they soon come to discover that there is something much more sinister going in Derry.





	Camp Derry - IT Sleep-Away Camp AU

Richie sat in the passenger seat of his father's Ford pickup, listening to his favorite mixtape through the car's cassette player. His mother had been driving him all the way from Southern Maine to Central Maine so he could be dropped off at sleepaway camp. He was incredibly reluctant to go, however. The only reason why he was attending camp in the first place was because his parents were wary to leave him alone in his house for another summer. His only remotely close friend was Bill Denbrough, a family friend, who was always at sleepaway camp for the summer – therefore, Richie had no one to hang out with and nowhere to go for three months. That was, at least, until his father had made the decision to send him to the same camp as Bill. He was content with his annual seclusion, but his parents were not.

Blackbird by the Beatles played through the car stereo, softly setting a calm atmosphere as Richie looked out the window. Winding wooded roads were all he saw for miles and miles – for hours and hours. He wasn't sad that he was leaving the state. In fact, he was kind of excited. He was merely nervous about the fact that he would be forced to meet new people and actually interact with other human beings. His big mouth always landed him in deep shit, too. The idea of sleeping miles and miles away from home and having minimal contact with his parents was admittedly terrifying. No one would be there to bail him out of trouble, and his dad would lose his mind if he had to pick him up early.

So many thoughts raced through his head as he pulled his knees up to his chest and sighed. After spending hours in the car with nothing to do but listen to music and play his Game Boy, he felt enclosed and wary of the near future.

"We're almost there," Richie's mom said, a hint of excitement in her voice. She was obviously sad that he wouldn't be around for the summer, but she wanted him to have a good time. "Get your shoes on." Richie nodded and picked up his favorite pair of Converse. They were so damaged and the soles were falling off, but he couldn't go anywhere without them. He was about to relax, picking up his Game Boy again when his mother reached over and took it out of his hand. He frowned and looked out of his window. "You can't bring this," she explained. "They said no Game Boys, no radios, nothing. Sorry, kiddo. You can write to us whenever you want, though. They'll let you call us if you really need to."

Richie's demeanor suddenly changed entirely. No way to avoid interaction, even when you're surrounded by people? It sounded like a bad time. As he moped, his eyes rested upon a large sign next to a fork in the road that read, "Turtle Shell Park". Underneath the sign was a handwritten banner, reading, "Welcome Camp Derry Campers of 1995!" Derry, Maine. Richie wanted to gag. He was in the middle of nowhere, in some town he'd never heard of before discovering Camp Derry.

"Is it too late to turn back?" Richie asked his mom as he observed the line of cars ahead of them. A lot of them were driving nice cars with nice bumper stickers on the back. He was certain that there were nice people in those cars. Rich people in those cars. The Toziers were in a breaking-down pickup truck that sounded like a running horse whenever it moved. Their car had no bumper stickers or any decoration to distract from the fact that it looked old and rusty. Inside of their car was a compassionate, hardworking woman, and a lanky asshole with curious green eyes behind his huge glasses. They stuck out like sore thumbs. All Richie wanted to do was go back home.

"Don't do that, baby," his mom said gently, turning to look at him. She tucked his bangs behind his ear and kissed his forehead. "You'll have a good time. I promise you."

Richie was comforted by her words. Still, he just did not want to leave. Sure, he would probably have some good times, but he didn't want to be so far away from his mom. She was the one that made him the happiest.

The car moved farther and farther up until they finally reached the parking lot, where Richie's mom helped him get his bags. He didn't bring much – just toiletries, underwear, and socks. He also packed another pair of shoes in case his Converse were deemed unusable. The camp was supposed to supply them with their own uniforms so that they could be identified when they went out for their daily festivities. The idea of wearing anything that wasn't flashy with bold patterns was so foreign to Richie that it made him uncomfortable. When Richie had his bag, he walked with his mother to the orientation building. It was a large, air conditioned building with wooden walls and linoleum flooring. There were two distinct rooms – the lobby and the auditorium. A table was set up in the lobby where the campers' parents signed them in, and the kids were ushered to the auditorium. 

Richie hugged his mom for an entire minute, not wanting to let her go, but she made him join the other campers after that. As soon as he was thrust into that room, he desperately searched for Bill. There were about thirty kids in there so far, but he didn't see his friend anywhere. He ended up sitting alone on the bleachers, facing the center of the room.

After a few minutes of staring anxiously at the door, a girl sat down uncomfortably close to him. He was about to tell her to move over, but as soon as their eyes met, he was at a loss for words. She had the most vibrant green eyes, just like his, but her hair was a fiery red, styled in two braids. She was stunning. 

The girl smiled a genuinely kind smile and squished her cheeks, like she was excited to see him. He had no idea why. "Hey! Hi! You haven't been here before," she said, like it was something he didn't know. "I'm Beverly Marsh, but if you want, you can call me Bev."

A bit soothed by her warm presence, Richie replied, "I'm Richie Tozier, but if you want, you can call me anytime." He stuck his hand out for a handshake, but Beverly pushed his hand out of the way, giggling.

"Richie, you are quite the charmer," she cooed, "but there's no need for formality here." He noticed that her cheeks were rapidly becoming red. It was pretty cute, but he didn't need to comment on it. 

"So, where exactly is my formality needed?" Richie asked impishly, scanning the room.

Beverly looked at her shoes for a moment, laughing as she said, "Maybe when you're with counselors, but not with us. Everyone here is really laid back."

Richie opened his mouth to say something else, but he looked over Beverly's shoulder to see Bill walk into the room and almost tripped over her as he abruptly stood up. She looked confused, but he walked away without excusing himself, speed-walking over to Bill and hugging him tight. That man was Richie's saving grace at that point. He was overwhelmed and nervous.

Bill hugged him back with gusto, picking him up a little before pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "T-Trashmouth Tozier, I haven't s-s-seen you in a month, b-b-but it's felt like forever." Richie laughed and nodded, ready to talk about his journey across the state, but Beverly emerged from behind him and threw herself into Bill's arms. Richie backed up and smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. Bill and Beverly had spun a few circles before they broke the embrace, still standing close to each other.

"I take it you two know each other," Richie said, laughing nervously. 

Beverly's reaction was immediate. She grabbed Richie's arm, her eyes bright and friendly, saying, "We've both been going here for years! I didn't know that you two knew each other. That must have been why I was so drawn to you!"

If Bill was close with Beverly, why hadn't Richie ever heard of her before? She was such a kind soul; someone you don't just forget to bring up in conversation when you discuss how your summer camp experience was. Nonetheless, he was flattered by her kindness. Despite walking in alone and afraid, he was feeling more and more drawn to the people around him. Maybe camp wasn't going to be so bad after all.

"You guys m-m-m-met already?" Bill asked, a bit astonished. It was crazy that in a room filled with new faces, Beverly flocked toward his friend specifically. 

"I mean, hardly," Bev said, playing with the end of one of her braids. She turned to look at Richie, her face somehow redder than it was before. "But we have the whole summer, don't we?"

"We sure do," Richie responded, giving two thumbs up.

The three stood in an awkward circle for a moment without saying anything, when Bill finally decided to spark up another conversation. "Have you seen B-Ben yet, Beverly? Is he coming?"

Beverly nodded, her smile inching farther across her face. "I did! He's introducing himself to new kids, over..." She paused to look around the room, finally fixing her eyes on someone. Richie definitely could not tell which camper she was talking about, given the fact that there were a ton of kids in the room by then, but she pointed. "There! Come on, Bill, let's say hi." She dragged Bill through the crowd of kids.

Richie didn't know whether he should have followed or stayed put, but before he could make up his mind, he was left alone again. He backed up a little, not minding his step, and bumped into someone behind him. He turned around to apologize, but the person he'd hit was already backing away, as if he was the one who did something wrong. He was tall, a bit taller than Richie, with suntanned skin and jet black curls above his panicked brown eyes. A yarmulke rested on the top of his head.

"Sorry," the two boys said at the same time, before the stranger looked around and escaped into the crowd. What a weird interaction. Richie was puzzled, but he didn't bother going after him. That kid looked even more nervous than he was. Instead, he searched around for Bill and Beverly.

He'd just caught up with them when a voice boomed throughout the auditorium, coming from the speaker system that was set up in the back of the room. There was a stage sandwiched between two lines of bleachers, where one of the counselors stood, holding a microphone. She was a muscular woman with brown hair that went down to her shoulders. 

"Hello, hello, Camp Derry!" the woman said, feigning enthusiasm. She looked very tired. Richie assumed she was. "If you're still standing, please find your seats."

Bill, Beverly, and Richie all looked at each other for a moment before silently agreeing to sit down in the front row of the bleachers nearest them. The Jewish kid that Richie had bumped into earlier sat in the same row, farther down the line. Beverly was leaning her head on someone's shoulder – Richie assumed it was Ben. He was chubby, with soft facial features and short blonde hair that grew upwards.

Now that everyone was seated, the lady on the stage started taking again. "Hello, friends and friends of friends! Welcome to Camp Derry!" Most of the kids in the auditorium, including Beverly and Ben, started cheering. Richie clapped for a moment. 

The woman introduced herself as Ms. Brown, and started going over ground rules. It wasn't anything wild, just explaining the housing, uniforms, activities, and what to do in emergency situations. It all seemed very tame – that was until Ms. Brown began to warn campers to never leave their cabins at night or stray too far from the groups, no matter what the situation was. This particular point in the speech lasted for about ten minutes. Richie was confused, turning to Bill as the safety precautions concluded and giving him and inquisitive look.

Bill looked at Beverly for a moment before he faced Richie again, sighing before he asked, "You haven't heard?"

Richie, still absolutely baffled, shook his head. "Did something bad happen?"

"W-W-We'll talk about it later," Bill said solemnly, folding his hands on his lap. Richie was so curious that he wanted to question him further, but he decided to leave it be, tapping his foot nervously.

The speech concluded after the safety precautions and the campers were guided to their cabins. Richie had to split up from Beverly, Bill and Ben, being put into a group with the kids who would be bunking with him. Each cabin was wooden, merely furnished by bunk beds, ceiling fans, and fluorescent lights. The windows' curtains could not be tampered with, seemingly only there for decoration. The fabric was literally stapled to the wall.

Every camper was assigned a bunk, simply insuring that there would be no fighting over who slept where. Ms. Brown told every camper which bunk was theirs, going by last name. Richie was in a room full of kids he didn't recognize, save for one familiar face - that skittish, Jewish kid again. He pushed up his glasses, waiting patiently to hear his name, curious to see who he'd be sharing the bed with. There were only a few beds and a few campers left standing by the time that Richie's name was called, however.

He went to set his stuff on the top bunk as soon as he was told which bed was his, still listening to Ms. Brown. "Stanley Uris," she said, "You'll be sharing the bunk with Richard."

No one stepped forward after his name was called. All of the boys just looked around at each other to see which one of them was Stanley Uris. All of them except for the Jewish kid. Again. What was his deal? He looked flustered, like he didn't know what to do.

"Stanley, please go to your bunk," Ms. Brown insisted, giving the Jewish kid a gentle nudge in the right direction. No fucking way it was him.

Richie watched Stanley approach the bed and set his things down on the floor, scratching his arm and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Ms. Brown continued to call out names as Richie walked up to his new bunkmate. "Stanley, huh?" he asked with a grin, displaying his buck teeth. "I'm Richie."

"Richie?" Stanley asked, finally looking him in the face. "You can call me Stan."

"Well, alrighty, Stan! Top o' th' mornin' to ye!" Richie busted out his favorite accent, the Irish cop, to which Stan visibly winced at before he covered his mouth. The offender had no obvious reaction to this, however. He just kept on smiling.

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you," Stan said, moving his hand away from his face and putting it in his pocket. There was an extremely awkward pause before he spoke again. "Sorry for bumping into you earlier."

Richie tilted his head, laughing a little. "You're really worried about that?"

Stan raised his eyebrows. "I worry about a lot of things, Richie."

"It's impossible to embarrass yourself around me," Richie assured him, trying to at least provide some comfort to this poor, anxious man. Why would his parents send him to sleepaway camp if he was afraid of everything? He imagined that Stan was having a very unpleasant time.

"I appreciate that," he replied coolly, pulling his hand out of his pocket to cross his arms. "It's just that I have a tendency to over-analyze stuff like that. I uh... I don't usually run away, though. Sorry again."

"Do you apologize a lot?" Richie asked.

"I guess so."

"Hmm... We'll have to work on that, then."

Stan looked a bit offended, opening his mouth to say something else when Ms. Brown made an announcement to all of the boys in the room. "Your cabin supervisor will be coming around to bring you all your uniforms soon! When everyone's changed, we can get started with today's activities. Everyone please stay inside until then."

With that, she was gone, and Stan had seemingly forgotten what he was about to say. He just began to make his bed with the provided linens and didn't spark any more conversation with his new bunkmate.


End file.
